


All That We've Fought For

by holographicbubbles



Series: Elsamaren Summer!! [5]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Elsamaren Summer 2020 (Disney), F/F, Hospitals, I don't know, is this angst?, or fluff?, please tell me what it is in the comments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holographicbubbles/pseuds/holographicbubbles
Summary: "To Maren’s delight, the smallest things brought Elsa the greatest joy. And there was nothing Maren wouldn’t do to see Elsa’s smile.Which is why it hurt so much now, as she entered the sinister, sterile halls of the hospital, greeted instantly by the harsh antiseptic."Elsamaren Week 2020, Day 5 - "I'll always love you." - Alternate Universes [TW for hospitals/referenced anxiety attacks]
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Series: Elsamaren Summer!! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827406
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41
Collections: Elsamaren Summer 2020





	All That We've Fought For

**Author's Note:**

> A few things before we begin. Um. 
> 
> 1, This is angsty-fluffy i really don't know.
> 
> 2, I'm not a medical expert at all, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I have what I would consider an innate outsider's knowledge on hospitalizations and medicinal treatment for epilepsy - not anxiety - having been present for more seizures than I can count (immediate family member, unfortunately) and while there is a considerable overlap between rescue medicines for seizures and emergency anxiety medicines, I do not know for sure that I did this correctly. Also, like I am pretty unaware of medical doctors for anxiety, as mine is severe but has never warranted more than therapy. Again, I have no idea if I wrote this like a seizure or not. I probably did.
> 
> I did scour the Mayo Clinic website and webMD for as much information as I could get, but I ultimately ended up relying on what I know from epilepsy for administrative techniques and etcetera. Also, it's been a long while (many years) since I was in the ER/in an ambulance (mostly I've been to the hospital in the aftermath of things as a visitor) so if I screwed up the admission process... oops. Again, sorry for any inaccuracies. Huh. I apologize too much.

Like many, and much to Elsa’s chagrin, Maren hated the winter. It was cold and the weather was dark and gloomy, especially in the city, where snow fell in gray clumps when it even did. The landscape was barren and dull, streetlights reflecting harshly off of wet pavement, and it smelled like gasoline and dirt since people no longer wanted to walk, it seemed. Except Elsa. Elsa walked everywhere, to Maren’s annoyance. It was okay, however, because in the dim lighting of the street under heavy clouds, Maren could watch Elsa stare at the sky in amazement and squeal when a snowflake landed on her nose, eyes crossing as she tried to look at it. To Maren’s delight, the smallest things brought Elsa the greatest joy. And there was nothing Maren wouldn’t do to see Elsa’s smile. 

Which is why it hurt so much now, as she entered the sinister, sterile halls of the hospital, greeted instantly by the harsh antiseptic. Her breath was the only thing she could hear, pounding in her ears over the rhythmic, quiet beeps. She walked up to the front desk and was welcomed with only a robotic “Name?”

“Honeymaren,” she gasped. “Honeymaren Aren-Nattura? I’m Elsa Aren-Nattura’s emergency contact,” she handed over her ID to the woman behind the desk. 

For a brief moment, all the sounds that met Maren’s ears were only the clicks of a keyboard and then the receptionist looked up. “Eighth floor, off the elevators to the left. Room 864. Here’s your familial badge.”

Maren took the badge and pinned it to her chest as she gave the receptionist a nod and a small smile before she walked over to the elevators.There were about two or three other people waiting, she couldn’t be too bothered to count. The ID badge on her chest granted her access to the floors via a barcode that got scanned at doors that were not activated by a wave or a push or doors that were otherwise locked. It also let hospital staff know that she was there on account of a family member. 

She arrived at the room while there were still a few nurses in there, clearing out some final things. Her wife herself seemed to be unconscious - sedatives, likely, Maren noted - her blonde hair fanning her face. If the situation they were in was any other situation, Maren would have said she looked angelic. A doctor came up to her from behind and she turned around to face them. 

“Miss Aren-Naturra,” they cleared their throat. It was Elsa’s emergency doc, Dr. Caelan Petterson. 

“How is she?” Maren responded breathlessly. 

“Under sedatives currently,” Dr. Petterson gave Maren a warm look, their statement confirming Maren’s suspicions. “Her vitals are stable, which is good, and her heart rate is back to normal.” 

“Which sedative?” 

“Diazepam. She needed a double dose to lower her blood pressure, but it worked. She has been taking her medications as instructed, correct?” 

Maren wanted to vomit, but she nodded. “Yes.” 

“Okay,” Dr. Petterson nodded and noted something down on a tablet. “We may have to think about upping her dose of buspirone. Has she had any more attacks recently?”

“A… a few,” Maren dug her nails into the flesh of her legs.

“Have attacks become more frequent?” 

“Not that I’ve noticed, but she may be having some while I’m not there.”

“Okay,” the doctor nodded, a stern look on their face. “Thank you.”

Maren let out a deep breath, her fingernails biting down into her thigh. She winced. The doctor turned to leave the room, pausing to look back at Maren. 

“And Maren?” they said. Maren looked up. “Take care of yourself too. I know that it’s hard to see someone you love like this, but she’s in good hands, I promise.”

“I know,” Maren wheezed, willing herself to not let the tears slip. Dr. Petterson nodded.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey Snowflake,” Maren whispered, moving into the chair next to the hospital bed. “I’m here and you’re in good care,” she brushed a lock of hair off of Elsa’s forehead and tucked it behind the blonde’s ear. “And I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise. We’ll get through this, okay?” 

It was stupid, considering she was mostly talking to reassure herself, but there was some part of her that wanted to hope that even in her unconscious state, Elsa could hear her and know that it was all going to be okay. 

“Miss Aren-Nattura,” Dr. Petterson rapped quickly on the door as they walked in. “It was a severe panic attack that started at work, her supervisor called 911 and she was initially connected to her therapist, but she was in severe physiological distress that they could not handle at the clinic, so she was redirected here.”

Maren frowned. She hated the thought of her wife being in such distress. “Was she saying anything?” 

“Asking for you, mostly,” the doctor pursed their lips. “And she was screaming for them not to take her here, at which she was sedated so that they could get her here. She was mostly unconscious by the time she arrived, but she was still asking for you,” they handed her a pad with what had happened on it. Maren skimmed through it and saw her name pop up a few times. Holding back a sob, she turned to Elsa and gripped her hand, rubbing her calloused thumb over Elsa’s. 

“You’re okay, Snowflake,” she murmured. “I’m here now.” 

Dr. Petterson nodded at the pair. “I’ll leave you here now.”

Maren nodded in thanks and turned back to Elsa. 

Her wife’s eyes fluttered open not much longer after Dr. Petterson left. A frown appeared on her face as quickly as mist falling once her gaze found Maren’s. “Hon-”

“Shh,” Maren quieted her. After attacks, she could still sometimes be inconsolable, and Maren had learned by now that a good way to help her to calm was to talk gently, sweetly and simply. “You’re in the ER, just rest. I’m here.”

“Honey,” Elsa’s fingers weakly found hers and clasped around them. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop doing that,” Maren said firmly and gripped the hand Elsa had put in her own tightly. “Stop apologizing for everything. You can’t help anxiety.”

Elsa turned her head to the side a little and Maren finally got a good look at her face. Red-rimmed, glassy eyes, bottom lip protruding, cheeks red. Still angelic. Still beautiful. Maren pressed her lips to the bridge of her nose. 

“But I always do this and I always put this all on you and I-” Maren watched as Elsa’s shoulders began to tense up and quickly placed her hand on her cheek to reassure her. 

“Snowflake, Elsa. You’re okay. Breathe,” Maren inhaled deeply to guide Elsa into a state of relaxation. She brushed her other hand over a clammy, sweat-beaded forehead and then brought it to her wife’s cheek along with her other hand and cupped them tightly. “Breathe.”

Elsa’s throat bobbed, her chin wavering. Maren couldn’t do much more but watch as Elsa struggled for a breath, before finally, she settled down and sunk into the bed. Maren pulled the thin sheets over her and tucked them around her chest. She leaned down and brushed her lips over Elsa’s ear.

“Rest,” she repeated quietly, barely a breath. “I’ll be here when you wake up, as always.”

“I’m sor-”

Maren wanted to punch her for even trying to say that, again and again, even when she had nothing to be sorry for. But punching her wife was obviously a terrible idea. “Elsa… What did I just say? You can’t help anxiety.”

Elsa took a shaky breath and Maren carefully watched her chest rise and fall, relaxing a little at the deepness of the breath. “I have nothing to be sorry for because I can’t help it,” Elsa forced out, despite her teeth being gritted. Her jaw relaxed a little with the sentence.

“Say it again for me,” Maren breathed. Elsa’s eyes were wide, like a scared child seeking reassurance. But she repeated it a few more times.

“Good,” Maren cooed, stroking her cold cheek until her eyes slipped closed and her breathing fell steady. 

“Are you okay?” Elsa then asked, opening one eye and gazing up at Maren. 

Maren smiled sadly down at her. “I've been better,” she admitted. 

Elsa bit down on her lip, where Maren now noticed faint puncture wounds. 

“Elsa,” she said sharply and Elsa’s mouth parted in a slight gasp. “This isn't going to ruin all that we've fought for. We’ve been through this before and we’ll get through it again.”

A tear trickled down the side of Elsa’s face and Maren traced it with her thumb. “I don’t wanna do this to you,” she sniffled. “I don’t wanna always be afraid and making you be scared too. I don’t wanna be so hard to love-”

Maren kissed her forehead again, cutting the fear in Elsa’s voice short. “You’re not hard to love, Snowflake. You’re the most lovable person that I know. And I’ll love you through anything.”

“But I don’t wanna be like this!” Elsa blubbered, squeezing Maren’s hand so tightly that for a split second, Maren worried for her circulation. But that fear turned to empathy as she saw Elsa’s body shake with a sob. “I don’t want hospital trips to be so common!”

 _I don’t want them to be, either,_ Maren thought woefully. But they were, and they couldn’t change that in the immediate, so they had to focus on the long term. Maren hesitated carefully, making sure she used the right words. “Well…” she paused. “They’re few and far between now. You’re getting a whole hell of a ton better, love.”

A smile flickered over Elsa’s cheeks, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. “You said that I’m not, but I don’t wanna make you lie,” she whimpered. “And I know that it’s hard to love me, especially now.”

Maren pulled her into a hug. “But I _do_ love you now, don’t you see? I’ll love you through anything, Snowflake. I’ll love you through all the good things and all the bad. I’ve always loved you, Elsa.”

She stopped to kiss Elsa’s cheek before pushing away and standing up. Elsa’s eyes were stony, azure determination, but the determination was clouded by stormy fear. Fear, like every storm would pass. It would be replaced by blue, clear skies formed from the tightly-knit spiderwebs of their love.

Because their love would win and fear would lose. 

“And I, Honeymaren Aren-Natturra-” she punctuated the mid-sentence break with a kiss. “I will always love you. No matter what.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY WROTE, LIKE _WROTE_ -WROTE SOMETHING ACTUALLY SHORT LIKE OMG I'M PROUD OF MYSELF
> 
> even though it was angsty  
> i think  
> i don't really know  
> maybe it was fluff, i don't think i can actually categorize things correctly  
> please tell me what this was
> 
> ~~also can someone _please_ talk me out of writing a fix-it for yesterdays work~~


End file.
